


Started in the Middle

by mtowntimeagent



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Verse, Omega!John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-21
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 10:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtowntimeagent/pseuds/mtowntimeagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John, as a young Omega, has taken up a rather nontraditional job though Mycroft Holmes. Sherlock decides that John is just interesting enough to save.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heat Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted fic, so be kind! Comments and suggestions are always welcomed! Thank you all so much!

It was around two o’clock in the morning. That was the only time that such lascivious actions could take place. It was kept in the dark from everyone who was not directly involved because, as the man in charge put it, the gathering in question would be ‘frowned upon’. It was a gathering of the most powerful men in the United Kingdom, and they all came for one thing: something that was completely carnal, animalistic…and very illegal. Despite all of these things, John Watson took the job anyway. It paid better than any other job (decent or otherwise) that an Omega could get. It was no surprise that Omegas were not allowed to work. In most places, they were not even allowed to finish school. John, however, had been one of the few that had actually made it through his formative years without a bond, and he was glad to have kept it that way.

Most Omegas were bonded within a year of their first heat. It all depended on the person. John’s was at the age of fifteen. He was more than relieved that it had happened when he was at home. He had been lying in his bed reading a book assignment for English, The Poisonwood Bible. He was doing more staring at the ceiling than actually reading, but that was beside the point. Suddenly, his body had begun to flush and feel warm. Little did he know that those would be the least of his problems in a few hours. By the time his parents had returned home, he was in full heat, writhing, grinding, rubbing on anything he could get to.

He came from a line of Betas; his mother and father were both proud Betas, and his sister Harriet was as well. As soon as his father had discovered he was an Omega, he shook his head in disappointment. John’s mother had begun to cry. He wasn’t sure what was so awful about being an Omega; dynamics were never discussed in school. At fifteen, he knew what they were. He had seen all the porn, read the articles in the newspapers about the kidnapped Omegas, the force-bonding, but he had never really put two and two together.

A week later, he had been sent to the facility where they examined, tagged, and kept record of all the Omegas as they came into knowledge. John had been sent to see a rather nice Beta doctor as soon as his first heat was over. The Doctor had checked him for all the usual signs, vitals, and given him his first real exam. He’d felt a horrible sense of embarrassment as the different instruments entered his body. He had covered his face with both hands, and wished that he could be anywhere else. John sat up when it was all over, and the Doctor had given him a smile. At the time John had assumed it was for reassurance; a way for the Doctor to let him know that everything was going to be okay. As he got older, he began to realize that instead of reassurance, the Doctor’s smile was one of sympathy. The Doctor had left the room and returned with a small device in hand. It looked a bit like a staple gun, but it held no staples. The Doctor walked over and rolled down the front of John’s hospital gown. He gave John a bit of a warning, and pulled the handle. It gave a loud ‘pop’ as the set of needles pierced down into John’s left shoulder. He let out a sharp cry before the Doctor laved the mark in some sort of ointment, and covered it with a gauze wrap. He asked John to sign his chart, and sent him home.

When John had gotten home, he removed the gauze and stared at his shoulder. There, forever imprinted on his body in ink was “Ω”. He slumped down onto his bed, unable to really figure out what had just happened. This was who he was now. He was informed by his mother that he would no longer be able to attend school, and instead his studies, if continued, would be taking place at home with a tutor. He liked the idea of being able to go through his studies at his own pace, but he soon realized that they would not be the same. His curriculum was no longer the standard math, science, English, and history. Instead, he was being taught things that he had never expected.

 

“Omega life rights?” John looked up at his tutor with questioning eyes. She was a middle aged Beta with a bad disposition.

“Yes, John. It’s a required course for all newly tagged Omegas.” She responded as if the question was one to which the answer should have been obvious. John began to flip through the pages of the rather large book. He remembered hearing his father making snide remarks about it when he was young. Before he was tagged. There was a common phrase, ‘useless as the OLR,’ in reference to the textbook John now held in his hands. It was well known that Omegas were treated as second class citizens. Third class, really, given that Alphas were top, Betas came in a distant second, and Omegas were last. Always last. He opened the book to page 311 and began to read the passage found there.

_****_

**__**

On Omega Defense:

It is well known that Omegas are easy to corner. They are scarce in numbers, and rarely travel in packs or groups. This is why the government has instituted the LOCAL program. The program is named for a pneumonic that helps to remember the five steps when one sees an Omega being given unwanted attention.  
L: Look! Do you see an Omega being approached by an Alpha pack or someone else?  
O: Observe! Watch the interaction. There’s a chance that they’re just friends! Wait to see if there is any indication of a struggle or scuffle. Remember: There must be a clear unwanted advance before any further action should be taken!  
C: Call! Call your local Omega-based unit! There are extensions through 999 made specifically for this purpose! Don’t bother the regular callers with these issues. Make sure you reach the correct authorities!  
A: Address! Remember to give the authorities the correct address of the incident, and do not get involved! Omega issues are strictly handled by each Omega-based unit, and should not be taken into your own hands!  
L: Leave! You have done your part by giving the address and information. There is no need for further concern with these issues. Each Omega-Unit will handle its own section and help out any Omega in need!

John closed the book quickly. The simple fact that there needed to be a standard procedure to protect them gave him shivers. Of course, it wasn’t until later that he learned that a horrifying number of those cases went ignored when reported to the Omega-Units. They were lost in the scuffle of paperwork and phone calls. At least, that was what the official statement was.

John looked back up at his tutor. “But Ms. Appeman, I need my science courses.” He said quietly.

“Why in the world would you need those, John?” She questioned, taking off her reading glasses and giving him an exasperated look.

“I’m going to study medicine.” He said simply, setting the book down on the table in front of him.

To this day he still couldn’t decide if the look Ms. Appeman gave him was one of amusement or disdain.

“No, John. You’re not.” she said simply. “Omegas can’t become Doctors for a number of reasons.” She told him. “So you don’t need science.”

 

John was snapped back into reality as he heard a knock at the door. He sighed, standing up and giving himself a once-over in the mirror. This was not how his life was supposed to turn out. This was not where he was supposed to be at the age of twenty two. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before opening them again. This time, he looked at himself a little more closely.

He was standing in the most posh room he could have imagined. It was always like this. Posh. Rich. Ridiculously cavalier. But then again, given the nature of what he was doing, that was to be expected. The room was filled with luxuriously plush chairs, and there were multiple tables set up along the outside. It looked like a buffet for forty people, but it was all for him. Anything he wanted, he got. This was how it had been since the beginning. He had been taken aback the first time he had entered the room, amazed at the ludicrous amounts of food and liquor. Now it was commonplace. He had told them on many occasions that he did not require so much food. But yet, the third Saturday of every month, here it was in mounds on the tables.

He leaned closer to the mirror, taking a look at his face. He was twenty two, and he looked it. His body was toned and defined. Well, as defined as his genetics would allow. There was something about being an Omega that seemed to stop them from ever being allowed to gain more than a certain amount of muscle. Something in their DNA demanded that they be weaker. In the same respect, Alphas required practically no work to sport a muscled physique. Bringing his attention back to himself, he noted that his face was soft and curved, and his eyes were kind. He had met only a couple of other Omegas in his lifetime, and they had both seemed so angry. He understood, certainly. But he simply could not share their resentment of the Alphas.

His eyes trailed down his body, and landed on the tattoo that was imprinted darkly on his left shoulder. He let out a sigh. He had seen people with tattoos, Alphas and Betas alike. But theirs always faded with time, started to look a little less prominent. The black was tinged with a light gray as time went on and their skin shed or they got tans or any number of other things. But not the Omega tag. That stayed dark and prominent on his shoulder. It never seemed to change. There had been a few Alphas that thought it was humorous to get their A tattooed on their dominant shoulder, as a stab at the pride of every Omega. But even those tattoos faded. Not John’s. His never got lighter or less noticeable. It could almost be seen through the fabric of any t-shirt. That was why John had taken to wearing jumpers atop his clothes. But not tonight. Not on a working night. That was what they were here to see. That was the reason he was being paid in one night the salary that a decent-working Beta would make over the course of many months. He looked at his clothing. It was modest: a white tank top and a pair of khaki cargo shorts. That was all. It wasn’t about the clothes. That did not matter. It never mattered. He could wear any clothes out of any closet and the effect would be the same. But the man-in-charge had requested that his Tag be visible at all times. That way there was no question as to his dynamic.

John heard another knock at the door and swallowed. He reached down, picking up a small bottle from the vanity whose gold-framed mirror he’d been using. It looked much like a cologne bottle, and in the most basic sense, it was. He turned the bottle over and a splash of clear liquid dripped into his palm. He quickly rubbed his hands together and began to spread the liquid across every bit of skin that was exposed. Even after he had rubbed it in, it left a slightly wet feeling over his skin that gave him a shiver. He splashed the bottle once more and coated his clothes and hair. He jumped up and down a few times before he walked out of the door and down the small hallway. (He thought of it as small, but in reality, it just seemed small when he was on the way out to work.)

As soon as he opened the last door, the clapping began. He had still not figured out why they clapped. The door opened to a large stage with a runway in the middle: the set up of a thrust stage. The walkway was surrounded on all three sides by chairs, which were in turn divided by four aisles. There were about seventy-five seats in the room, but it was rare that they were all filled. John could only recall having seen that once in the seven times he had been here. The stage was incredibly close to the first row of chairs. The people who sat in the front row (most commonly rich, high-powered Alphas) were the ones who got to be closest to John, who was covered in the liquid scent of an Omega in heat. Specifically of him in heat. He drenched himself in the smell before he went out. He walked back and forth for an hour, letting the scent waft to the upper chairs.

It seemed so simple. So...innocent. The reality, however, was that it was incredibly dangerous and illegal. There had only been one incident since John had been doing this. That had happened when a young eager Alpha had been allowed on the front row. He had come from a good family, and had more than enough money to buy a prime seat. John had gotten down and back the thrust once before the man had leapt from his seat, pouncing on him. The security team had pulled the man off, but the problem had led to so much tension in the room that the only way to diffuse the situation was to evacuate.

The job itself was called Heat Dancing, and it was found in a number of underground Alpha clubs around the world. The reason it was illegal, however, because in the past Omegas had been kidnapped, bound and gagged, and forced to walk at gunpoint. John was doing it of his own volition, but that did not make it any more legal. He had never quite understood why it was called ‘dancing,’ anyway. Possibly because it reminded some people of the strip clubs that Betas went to in order to watch women undress for money. But this was different. John kept all of his clothes on, and got his money up front. The atmosphere, however, was much the same: Alphas taunting and catcalling at him. His first time had made him nervous. Embarrassed, even. Now he was an expert. He sang a song in his head, ignored the sounds.

What made John willing to accept the job, other than the money, was the fact that his identity would never be revealed. This was due to the fact that the Alphas (and a select few Betas) that attended these events were high powered well known members of government. On most occasions there were no more than twenty people there. But it was enough. The seats were expensive and the show was good. There were so few unbonded Omegas that were of age, that it made John a hot commodity. And all he had to do was walk.

When the night’s show was over, John returned to his room. He was feeling exceptionally tired tonight, though he had no idea why. He had not done anything out of the ordinary. He decided against taking his usual shower, and made his way out to the car that the man in charge provided to and from his residence. It was a way of ensuring that he wasn’t followed.

As soon as he had stepped outside, he was shoved into an alley. He was shocked that no one had seen; there were people everywhere. The sad truth, though, was that even if someone had seen, they would have kept their mouth shut.

“I saw you in there tonight.” a voice, husky and deep, muttered into his ear. He couldn’t quite catch the person’s face, but it was a male. Alpha, by the smell of him. He quickly turned John around and slammed his face against the brick of the alley wall. He groaned as his cheek was dragged across it. He couldn’t stop the thoughts that flooded his mind.

_This is it. Oh, God. This is it. I’m going to be force-bonded. I heard the stories, but I never imagined. Oh, fucking hell. I don’t want this. I don’t want this._

He felt the man pressing his erection up against him, and John let out a groan that he hadn’t intended. His own body betrayed him at the scent and dominance of the Alpha in question. Suddenly, the pressure was gone. He turned around to see not one, but two men standing in the alley. He could now see the face of the man who had cornered him. He recognized him as some member of the American government, but he couldn’t recall a position or a name. The other man was tall. Stupidly tall and skinny with a riot of curls atop his head. It was this second man that spoke first.

“What you were about to do.” He began. “I am fairly certain that there is one of those...” he waved his gloved hand in the air, as if he was trying to come up with the word. “Law things. Against it,” he finally decided. “That means that you had better find your way out of this alley before something happens to you.”

The aggressor was taken aback by the slender man’s words. “Hey, look buddy, I’m just looking for a good time.” He said. Definitely American. “But if you want trouble, I can get you trouble.” He punctuated this by pulling a gun from his pocket and pointing it at the lanky man in the long coat.

The second man let out an exasperated sigh, as if guns being pointed at him were nothing new. In a movement so quick that John had questioned whether it had actually happened, he reached over, grabbed the gun, pulled the man forward and headbutted him, knocking him out cold. He engaged the safety and removed the clip from the gun, tossing it aside with a sigh. He turned to face John who, no doubt, looked like a deer in headlights. The man made sure the collar on his coat was upturned and held out one gloved hand to John who did not take it.

“I just saved your life. I believe it would be customary for you to shake my hand.” The slender man told him. His voice was deep and smooth, like velvet, and it made John shudder. He still did not take the proffered hand, however, so the man let it fall back to his side. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, setting about lighting the end and breathing in a deep puff of smoke. John simply stared, still unable to grasp the full implications of what had just happened.

“Why?” he asked finally.

“Oh! He speaks!” The tall man said in a mock excited tone. “You want to know why I stepped in. Why I saved your life.” It was not a question. “You are different.” He said simply, tugging again on the end of his cigarette. “You’re Heat dancing.” That was obvious “You heat dance, but you’re much too smart for that.” He waved his hand as soon as John opened his mouth to speak. “You finished your studies. Had you been able to afford it, you would have no doubt continued on into a higher learning tutor, but as it stood, you were unable to afford it. Which gives one answer as to why you took my brother up on his offer.” He once again held up a hand as John’s mouth opened. “But even so, you are different from the other Omegas, which makes you interesting.” He went on. “The most obviously unusual bit is that you are twenty two and remain unbonded. Even the least desirable Omegas are typically bonded by their early twenties. Granted, many of those are not life-bonds, but that is irrelevant.” his eyes narrowed in on John. “You haven’t bonded because you don’t want to. Which I find fascinating,” he admitted, bending down to John’s level. “Typically by the time Omegas reach their twenties, they realize that this is as good as their life gets. They want to find a suitable mate and bond. But not you, John.” He nearly whispered. When John heard his name come from the strange Alpha’s mouth, he let out a soft breath. “No. You’re different,” he concluded. “Which is why I want to ask you some questions.”

John finally spoke up for himself. “I’m sorry, but I don’t even know your name!” He said, crossing his arms in front of him. He wasn’t sure why he found himself able to talk back to this Alpha, but he felt like he could be himself. “You said something about being Mycroft’s brother?” He asked, remembering what he had said before.

The tall man sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. “I would rather not be linked to him, but yes. Mycroft is my...brother.” he said with some difficulty. “I am Sherlock Holmes.” He held out his hand once again. John stared at it for a few moments before reaching out and shaking it. Sherlock seemed pleased by this. “I want you to come back to my flat with me so I can ask you some ques-”

“No.” John cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “No, I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re an Alpha. I’m not even supposed to be alone with an Alpha I’m not bonded with, and why would I go anywhere with you in the first place!? I’m still covered in pheromones, there’s no way I would-”

“I haven’t so much as made a move toward you, John.” Sherlock sighed as if he was already bored of this argument. “I’ve trained myself over time to be a bit more resistant to the heat pheromones of Omegas. Because of this, the scent of your heat that has been bottled for...” He took a deep breath in through his nose. “Three months.” he concluded. “It has only a small effect on me. Nothing that I cannot manage.” He gave another wave of his hand. “I only want to ask you a few questions, John.”.

For some reason, John believed him.

“Why me? I know you said I was...different.” He said, fidgeting with his hands. “But why would you want to ask me questions? What could you learn from that?” He questioned.  
Sherlock ran one gloved hand over his face. “Everything! Don’t you see!” He demanded. It seemed like no matter what John said, it frustrated him. Like it was all so completely obvious to him, and the fact that it wasn’t obvious to John set him on edge. “You’re different! You’re new! You’re a riddle, John!” He said, his voice rising in pitch as he got excited. He seemed more excited about the riddle than by the heat pheromones coming off of John’s body. “I just want to ask you a few questions. Then if you want to leave, you can.” He said, pulling out his phone. “Look. It’s...” He held up the display. “a quarter of four. If we leave now, we will be done by eight.” He said it almost desperately, like a promise.

John stared at him for a few moments before he finally gave a curt nod. Sherlock pumped his fists and gave a quick jump. “Yes!” John could tell by his reaction that he was genuinely excited at the concept of getting to question him. And that made him feel good. Special. He had always felt special in the way that all Omegas did, but this was different. The way Sherlock treated him was new. The way he spoke to him made it seem like he was an equal. It was different and wonderful. To his surprise, Sherlock walked up to the car that was meant for John. He spoke a few words to the driver who nodded. “After you.” He opened the door for John who gave a smile and climbed in. Sherlock followed suit, and closed the door after them as the car drove off.


	2. The questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John arrives at Sherlock's house and Sherlock proceeds with his questioning.

The ride was quiet. John wasn’t sure what he expected. The young man had seemed fairly talkative back in the alley, but now he seemed lost in thought. His hands were perched under his chin, and he seemed fairly oblivious to the world. This was when John took the time to really study his features. He looked young. Younger than John himself. Maybe by about two years. He was an Alpha, there was no doubt about it. But there was something about his scent that John couldn’t seem to place. He liked it, however. It was comforting. Almost like putting chamomile in a bath. The man’s hair was a riot of black curls that stuck out in every direction. He was fit, but skinny. John could tell that despite the fact that he lacked in muscle, he was strong. His face consisted of harsh angles that at first John had found unpleasing to look at. The longer he looked, however, the more he found himself drawn to the features of this Sherlock Holmes.

The drive was long. Longer than he had expected. He was not sure why he had expected some small flat on the upper side. This was Sherlock Holmes. The brother of Mycroft, the man who had gotten him his job in the first place. Naturally, he wouldn’t be staying in just any flat. Apparently, to Sherlock Holmes, ‘my flat’ meant a huge building that I live in with my family. “Good lord...” John mumbled as the car pulled up. “Y-You live here?” He asked, his eyes wide. It might has well have been Buckingham Palace for all John cared.

“Yes, yes.” Sherlock waved a dismissive hand, as if this was nothing new. Which, to him it wasn’t. “It’s a bit...ridiculous, I know.” he sighed. “Come on, my building’s just over here.” he led John across the large yard and towards a small building off to the side of the main house.

“You have your own bloody building?” John questioned after having picked his jaw off of the expertly cut grass.

“Oh, please, John, do try to keep up. I know you’re an Omega, but you’ve seen large houses before.” he sighed, opening the door to his building.

John walked in, quickly taking in all the sights. It was an absolute mess. There were books and papers and beakers everywhere. John pointed over towards a bookshelf. “I-is that a skull?” he asked nervously. Sherlock again rolled his eyes and wandered into another room. John began to look around. The smell in this room was more clean. More distinctly...Sherlock. He smiled. He did like this smell. His eyes were caught by a series of books sprawled out on the young man’s desk. Books about the anatomy and physiological differences between Alphas and Omegas. John smirked. Most people didn’t care what the differences were. They just accepted it and moved on. It made him happy to know that Sherlock did care. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. That was when his eye glanced another book. It was old. Incredibly old. It looked to be falling apart. The pages were brown and weather worn. It was titled How to Train your Omega. John felt anger bubble in his stomach. He felt fairly certain that Sherlock wasn’t attempting to train him, but even the fact that he had that book put John on edge.

“Shall we get started then?” Sherlock asked from the other side of the room. He had procured a large legal pad and a pen. He had, for some reason, changed his clothes. He now wore a pair of loose jeans and a t-shirt. John raised an eyebrow.

“Got comfortable?” he questioned as he walked over and took a seat on the sofa. He watched as Sherlock took a seat in the chair across from him. John suddenly felt as if he were in some type of psychological exam. Sherlock ignored his question, and instead posed one of his own.

“How did you feel when you first found out you were an Omega?” he questioned.

“Obviously skipping the niceties.” John muttered under his breath, tugging at the edge of his shirt.

“That’s not what we’re here for John. I need information. About you. So if you don’t mind, how did you feel when you first found out you were an Omega?” he repeated.

John thought about this for a few moments. “I guess I just...I don’t know. Mum and Dad weren’t happy.” he said, his voice dropping off a bit. “I felt like I had let them down.” he looked up to see Sherlock scribbling away at his legal pad and tried to ignore it. “My Mum and Dad were both Betas. So is my sister.” he said with a sigh. More scribbling. “I was kind of....angry.” he admitted. He realized he had never really told anyone that before. He had always played the part of the good little Omega, but he had been angry. “I just...I wanted to know why me? Why did I have to be the different one? Why was I the one who had this, this...problem.” He said the word as if it were a curse. “I mean, I know there’s plenty of other Omegas out there. Ones that live happy, normal lives. Well...as normal as they can.” he corrected himself. He knew that an Omega could never truly live a normal life. There were always going to be problems. No matter how many institutions they put in place, no matter how many pills they prescribed. Being an Omega meant that you could never really be ‘normal.’ “Sometimes I wished it was Harry.” he said quietly, almost to himself instead of Sherlock. “I know that’s an awful thing to do, but I did. I wanted it to be her so that I could be a Beta. Live a nice, boring life with a boring Beta wife or husband and have boring Beta children.” he sighed again. He looked over at Sherlock, who was lost in his writing. John waited until he stopped and looked up.

“So you felt anger. What then?” Sherlock pressed. He could tell that there was something more there, but John wasn’t willing to give it up. “Come on. You’re far too...different now. All Omegas are angry when they realize how different their lives are from everyone else. What aren’t you telling me?” he pushed.

“I guess I just...accepted it. You know? That I was different. That I was always going to be different. But that didn’t mean I had to like it.” he said, his voice a bit more grave at the last sentence. “I saw my friends going off and getting bonded at sixteen. Sixteen.” he emphasized as if he couldn’t believe that it was happening.

“That’s a typical bonding age in Omegas, John. You must know that.” Sherlock said through his scribbling down everything John was saying, as well as some of his own observations.

“Yes, I know, but...” John gnashed on his bottom lip. “It’s just so young, you know?” he asked. Sherlock didn’t answer. “I mean, I’m twenty two and I still don’t know who I am. How are you supposed to know when you’re sixteen?” his voice was frustrated now. “And what’s more is that it’s only bad for the Omegas. Alphas can bond with whoever they want. Multiple people.” He was clearly emotional now. “I mean, once an Omega is bonded, no one else will touch them. Not for love anyway.” John said. Sherlock let out a muffled laugh from across the room. John’s head snapped up. “What? You don’t believe in love?” he demanded. Sherlock finished his sentence and looked up at John.

“It’s not a matter of believing in love, John.” he said, his tone once again that of someone who feels that they already know the right answer, and that everyone else should know it as well. “The concept of love exists whether I believe in it or not.” he waved his hand in the air. “I just think the whole thing is outdated and a complete waste of time.” he began to write more on his pad, apparently done with the subject. John decided not to push it any further. “So.” Sherlock continued. “You are angry that an Alpha can bond with however many people he wants, but an Omega can only bond with one person?”

“It’s not even that.” John sighed. “I hate the word bond. It implies that there’s something between the two people. Some mutual...something.” he was lost for words. “But there’s not. Not often. Not between an Alpha and an Omega. It’s rare to see a real life-bond.” he went on; “It’s more often to see an Alpha bond with an Omega when they’re young and then move on to someone else, leaving the Omega behind.” John said, clenching his fists now. This was the part that angered him. The complete lack of care. “Do you know what they call them?” he asked Sherlock, who shook his head in response. “Scraps.” John spat. “Bloody scraps.” he shook his head. “And I wasn’t going to be one of them. That’s how I felt.” he said, crossing his arms. Sherlock didn’t seemed phased in the slightest.

“Why did you chose to finish your education?” He asked his next question. John simply stared for a moment. He had thought Sherlock was so nice. So polite. But now he was beginning to have second thoughts. What sort of question was that? Why wouldn’t he finish his education?

“Because I’m a smart person!” He replied. “I liked learning. I wanted to be a doctor.” he added, his voice sounding more dejected by the second. He expected Sherlock to laugh at him. That was how all Alphas, and most Betas, reacted when he said he wanted to be a doctor. They all knew it was basically impossible for an Omega to get the proper education to become a doctor, and even if they did, once they were bonded, it was unlikely they would be able to return to work. But Sherlock didn’t laugh. Not a snicker or a chuckle. He silently scribbled away on his legal pad. “I just...I wanted to try and be as normal as I could for as long as I could.” John sighed. “I knew I didn’t have much longer. The more time I went without bonding, the more attention I drew.” He shook his head. “The older an Omega gets without being bonded, it’s like...” he searched for the correct phrasing. “It’s like some kind of game to them.” he said, referring to the Alphas. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just immediately lump Sherlock in with them. But he still felt there was something different. “It’s like the one who is finally able to mate with the older Omega is a ‘real’ Alpha or something.” he shook his head. “But I just wanted to learn what I could and be who I wanted to be. That’s why I finished my education.” Sherlock nodded and finished up what he was writing.

“Why did you take the job from my brother?” Sherlock questioned. John bit his lip and thought for a moment. He had expected this to come up in one way or another, but he still wasn’t sure how to answer. He thought back to when Mycroft had first propositioned him.

_It was the middle of the day. The safest time for an Omega. But even then, one could be certain. Omegas were known to disappear off of a busy street in the middle of the afternoon, and surprisingly, no one ever saw them go. Other Omegas were always too afraid to say anything. Any Betas nearby typically felt that it wasn’t their business to get involved. And any Alphas...Well, they just looked the other way. It wasn’t long after his eighteenth birthday that John moved out of his parent’s house. He could tell that things were uncomfortable. They had never been overly fond of Omegas. No one really was. But now they would say things that were cruel or hurtful, and everyone in the room would look at John. He had had enough, and finally moved out and into an Omega half-way house. He had stayed there, working the most menial jobs he could get. That was the only work to be found as an Omega. Typically by the age of eighteen, they were bonded and simply depended on their Alpha to take care of and provide for them. No one wanted to hire an unbonded Omega. Eventually, John found a janitorial job at a local hospital. It was as close as he was ever going to get to medicine._

_Eventually, he had saved up enough money to afford a small one-bedroom flat in a building specifically for Omegas. It had to be owned and run by an Omega, and only occupied by other Omegas. That was the only way. It was John and four other Omegas that stayed in the small building. Each flat was only one bedroom, one bath and a tiny kitchen. There wasn’t even a living room. But it was enough for John. The other four Omegas were kind enough. Two were scraps, one was life-bonded but lived separately from her Alpha, and one was an old widower whose Alpha had died years before. John was the youngest person there by four years. He lived there until he was twenty one._

_It was about a month after his twenty first birthday, and John finally had a day off from scrubbing toilets and doing hospital laundry. He had decided to reward himself with a walk in the park. It was a beautiful late-fall day, and there was a distinct chill in the air. It was John’s favorite time of year. Late fall when everything was just getting ready to switch over to winter. He took a deep breath and smiled. He sat down on a nearby bench and pulled a book from his backpack and began to read. After about ten minutes, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He tensed up. No one he knew would be coming to this park. Any time an Omega was approached on the street by someone he or she didn’t know, it was typically bad news. John slowly turned around to see a very well dressed Alpha standing behind him, holding an umbrella._

_“Good Afternoon, John.” The man said with a smile. John wasn’t sure why, but the smile didn’t make him any more at ease. Neither did the fact that the man knew his name, even though he hadn’t introduced himself._

_“Hullo...” John said warily, closing his book. “I’m sorry, have we met?” He asked, trying to place the man from a past experience, but coming up with a blank. He was certain that if he had ever met this man before, he would remember it. He had a very distinct look about him. The way his nose crooked, and the fact that he carried an umbrella despite the clear blue sky._

_The man chuckled, apparently amused by John’s question. He walked around to the front of the bench, sitting next to John. This immediately put John on edge. It was highly inappropriate, though not illegal, for an Alpha to approach an Omega so bluntly without even introducing his or herself. “No. We haven’t met before.” The man told him, turning to look at him. “I’m Mycroft Holmes.” He said, holding out his hand. John slowly reached out and shook it. “I’ve been paying attention to you, John Watson.” he said, playing with the tip of his umbrella. “You’re a very curious case. And I have a proposition for you.” John’s head pulled back away from the man._

_“A proposition?” He questioned. It was an odd term. But then again, this Mycroft was indeed an odd man. John assumed he was a rich Alpha looking for an Omega. He had heard of this before too. An Alpha attempting to buy the bond with an Omega. John wasn’t going to fall for it. “Look, whatever it is, mate, I’m not interested.” he said, opening his book back up._

_“I want to offer you a job, Mr. Watson.” Mycroft said, not relenting in his effort to get John. He looked off into the distance, watching the people as they played with their dogs and the children that flew their kites._

_“A job?” John asked, suddenly interested again. He had a job already, of course, but a second job couldn’t hurt. Plus, it would keep him out of trouble. Obviously, days spent at the park were no longer the safest option._

_“Yes, a job. It isn’t....janitorial work.” The man said as if the mere idea of scrubbing a toilet was beneath him. “And it pays well. You’re making what now? Four pound an hour?” Mycroft asked with a chuckle, as if he had just repeated the worlds funniest joke._

_John was a bit red and flustered now. It was true, Omegas didn’t make much money. They rarely had jobs. But it was enough to live off of. At least for John. “Yeah, so? What do you care? How much better could this job really be?” He asked, not convinced._

_“John...” Mycroft began, tapping the end of his umbrella on the ground. “This job doesn’t pay by the hour.” he said with a smirk. “In one night, you’ll make more money than you have made in a year at your current job.” He explained. John’s eyes widened. Was that even possible? For an Omega to hold a job that paid that much?_

_“What’s the catch?” John demanded. He knew there had to be one. There always was. Nothing could ever happen to him that was just strictly good. Mycroft let out a sigh, as if he had been caught, and hadn’t expected John to ask that particular question._

_“It’s not strictly speaking....legal.” he muttered the last word under his breath. John stared at him._

_“Right. I’m just going to blindly follow some random Alpha that walks up to me in the park, admits to spying on me, and then asks me to do an illegal job for him? I don’t think so, mate. Not today.” John rose from the bench and began to walk off._

_“Pity.” Mycroft sighed, rising to his feet as well. “I thought you were different. You would have been perfect. Not many men have the strength to do this job. I thought you were one of them.” He said. John knew it was a bait. He knew it was a taunt and a call to arms. He told himself to keep walking. Just walk away. He knew this was a bad idea. But instead, he turned around._

_“How do you mean, ‘different’?” John asked. Mycroft smiled._

_“Oh, Mr. Watson. Just you wait.”_

“There were a lot of reasons.” John told Sherlock, once he had snapped back to present day. “The money was a draw, definitely.” He wasn’t ashamed to admit that. Any Omega that was on his or her own could attest to the fact that money did not come easily to them. It was difficult to find a decent paying job, so when they did, they took it.

“But it’s not just about the money.” Sherlock pressed.

“No.” John said. “It was also a way for me to stay in control of myself. To keep a hold over my own fates.” He explained. He often felt like, as an Omega, many of his rights as a human being were stripped away from him. But there were a few things that Omegas held over Alphas, and heats were one of them. When an Omega was in heat, there were very few things that could keep an Alpha from losing their mind over them.

“So you Heat Dance?” Sherlock asked. John felt himself getting defensive again. Sherlock was obviously implying that putting oneself on display to be gawked at and panted over was hardly a way to keep control.

“Yes.” John said simply. “Problem?” He asked, ready to pounce as soon as Sherlock made a defamatory remark about his job. That didn’t come, however, and Sherlock simply proceeded to the next question.

“Have you ever had sex with the people you dance for?” He asked. John’s jaw dropped. The way Sherlock had asked the question, he could have been asking if there were any biscuits left to go with tea. When John didn’t answer, he looked up. “John? I asked you a questi-”

“-Yes, Sherlock, I heard it.” John cut him off, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this man had obviously no sense of appropriate conversation. Still, he began to write quickly on his paper. John raised his eyebrows. “What are you writing? I haven’t said anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I already know you haven’t slept with them.” Sherlock replied, still scribbling in his book. “In fact, you’re a virgin.” He said simply. John flushed red.

“How do you know! You don’t know anything about my private life!” He demanded. “I could have slept with loads of people and you would nev-”

“Aaaand I’m going to stop you there before you embarrass yourself any further.” Sherlock finally stopped scribbling on his paper and looked up at John, his eyes narrowing in on him. “As soon as I asked the question, you fidgeted with the collar of your shirt, a telltale sign of an Omega who is unbonded. A bonded Omega wouldn’t even think twice about it, and if they did, they would have instead rubbed at their bond mark on the back of their neck. But I already knew you were unbonded, so that was technically irrelevant.” Sherlock waved his hand in front of his face. “You didn’t immediately answer, which meant you were contemplating your answer. Why would someone need to contemplate their answer to a question which only has, in fact, one answer. Well, there are two reasons. One being that the number of sexual partners you had was so numerous that you actually had to take the time to count them out. The other being that you were trying to come up with an answer that you felt would suffice. You can attempt to pass it off as shock or wonderment, but in the end, it all boils down to the fact that you didn’t answer.” He sighed. “You have a strong moral fiber, that’s obvious by the fact that you still feel remorse for something as basic as wishing your sister had been an Omega instead of you. Yet, not so strong as to not take money in exchange for doing something illegal. So where do you draw the line? Well, obviously when it comes to the matter of dynamics, you tend to stick to a more traditional form of morality, so you, in fact, have not slept with any of them.” Sherlock concluded. “But Sherlock, how did you know I was a virgin?” the young man asked in a mock tone that John assumed was supposed to be him. “Because as soon as I accused you of it, you turned as red as a tomato.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. John blinked, trying to grasp what had just happened.

“That...” He said breathily, “was...brilliant.” he concluded. Sherlock looked up, slightly surprised.

“Wh-You really thought so?” He asked, a smile flashing across his face. John gave a single nod.

“Yeah.” He said simply. “The way you just kind of...put everything together like a puzzle. It was....it was really cool.” He smiled. Sherlock gave an exasperated sigh at the word ‘cool’.

“Okay, last question.” He said, putting his pen back against the paper. “What do you honestly think of Alphas?” He asked. This was another question John was taken aback from. He hadn’t expected it. And, in all honesty, had no idea how to answer it.

“How do you mean? Just...In general?” he asked. That was such a loaded question, John wasn’t quite sure he would be able to answer it.

“I mean, how do you feel about Alphas? The way they act, the things they do. Anything.” Sherlock said.

“I mean...I guess...” John stumbled around, trying to figure out how to give a decent answer to the question, and was finding it more difficult the longer he thought about it. “I don’t think it’s fair...” he decided. “I don’t think it’s fair the way they treat us.” He said, in reference to himself and the other Omegas. “It’s like we’re property. Something to just be stuck in a house and bred. Like we’re not even people.” His voice cracked a bit on the last word. “It’s like...no matter who we are our whole lives...it’ll never be enough. We can never be good enough. We’ll never be smart enough or strong enough or pretty enough or handsome enough.” He began to list off things that Omegas were known for not being able to achieve. “But the thing is, we’re never even given a chance.” his breathing was shallow now, but the words were pouring from his mouth. “We’re pulled out of school at fifteen and sixteen years old, and we’re told that we’re not allowed to learn anymore.” he spat. “We’re told that we have to be treated special, which sounds okay at first. Because that’s all any kid ever wants, isn’t it? To be special?” His hands were shaking now as he brought them up to card through his short blond hair. “And that’s what we are. We’re kids. We’re god damn kids, Sherlock.” He said. “We don’t even know who we are, and we’re being pulled aside, shoved into classes and lessons and told that everything we are is gone. Now we’re an Omega.” He pulled down his sleeve to show the tattoo imprinted permanently, tagging him as an Omega. “And that’s who you are. That’s your identity.” He snapped. “You’re not a person anymore. You don’t get to have dreams and wishes and hopes. Not anymore, Johnny boy. Oh no. Now you have to go and bond with some rich Alpha and give him perfect little Alpha children. Now off you pop!” His voice was bordering on hysterical. “And it’s not going to change! Not now. Not ever.” He shook his head. “Because we live in a society dominated by Alphas. There is one Omega in all of the British government.” John said, his voice full of dry humor. “One. And she’s just there for looks. Everyone knows she doesn’t even hold any real power.” he spat, the venom clear in his voice. “There’s four Betas, and the rest are Alphas. All of them. And nothing is ever going to change that. This is how it’s going to be. Now and forever. So forgive me if I’m not too particularly fond of Alphas.” John finished his tirade and realized that something was wrong. Something was different. He looked up to see Sherlock watching him curiously, head tilted to the side like an interested animal. He hadn’t written any of that down. Not a word. Like he didn’t need that for his notes. He just genuinely wanted to know what John thought. The older man took a deep breath, calming himself. “I’m sorry.” he said finally.

“Now it’s your turn.” Sherlock responded, setting his pen and pad down on the table next to him. This time it was John’s turn to tilt his head curiously.

“How do you mean, my turn?” He asked.

“Now you get to question me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone who is reading, those who bookmarked, gave kudos, and those who commented! I take everything to heart! Thank you all so much!


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